


The Master's Closet

by ModernWizard



Series: The Happy Famverse [13]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Closet Jokes, Coming Out, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gender, Gender Identity, Genderbending, Genderfluid, Humor, Multi, Nychthemeron being a shit, Okay Yaz ain't straight, Plague Doctors, Probably one of the major reasons the Master has a closet, She's a plume fiend -- that's why!, Silly, The Doctor doesn't go anywhere near the Master's closet!!!, The Doctor's side of the closet?!?, YAZ ARE YOU DEAD?!, but an amusing shit, but she's still working on the whole gender thing, coming out jokes, it's not because he used to be a woman, it's not cross-dressing, it's not drag, marvell-ous poetry, mushroom hunting gear, puns, tfw when you're trying to explain your gender to one of The Straights and they're like HUH?!, the Master in a dress, the perils of basic purple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernWizard/pseuds/ModernWizard
Summary: Plague doctors, virgin sacrifices, twisty slides, mushroom hunting robes, and dramatic sparkly things -- the Master's closet is an interesting place, all right. Yaz gets lost in there, comes out in a stupendous debut, and asks the Master a bunch of questions about what she found. He blows her mind by wearing a dress.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Yasmin Khan & The Master (Dhawan)
Series: The Happy Famverse [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694899
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Master's Closet

_[INT. THE MASTER’S BEDROOM/STUDY/LITTLE BIT OF EVERYTHING ROOM. The usual piles on the floor, old-book smell in the air, projects by the armchair, and general sense of strictly organized chaos. THE MASTER squats, bouncing on his haunches, before a pile of clothes. He’s wearing a dark lilac maxi dress that starts out up top looking like a button-down shirt, but then just goes down to the ankle. He has the sleeves rolled up past the elbow and an open waistcoat on over that, embroidered with a design that’s electric blue, kind of circuit-board-like, and headache-inducing. The slits up either side of the dress show that his stockings have diagonal purple and green lightning stripes on them. His scuffed loafers miss their decorative tassels. The stitching is also unravelling around the toes. Come to think of it, several of those buttons on his waistcoat seem perilously loose too…]_

THE MASTER: Let’s see… We’ve got galoshes, rucksacks, hats, gloves, masks, mushroom extraction kits… Whoo hoo hoo, hee hee hee! If Yaz finds those robes, we’re going to look like Grim Reapers — harvesters of mushroom souls! _[Boings up, flings arms out, sends voice down to oratorical timbre.]_ Tremble, fungi, for your doom now sweeps down upon you, clad in flowing robes of purple. Hhhhhhwhoooosh! Swoooosh! _[Whips arms around like wings.]_

THE MASTER CONT.: Hmmm… _[Spinning around.]_ And yet...and yet...I have to admit — basic purple is a touch, well, basic. _[Contemplates mask, which is circular and mostly smooth, with a darker oblong of fine black mesh acting as a filter over mouth area.]_ Regal, but predictable. Classic, but ubiquitous. Impressive, but uninspired. Needs more oomph — pizzazz — flair — cowbell. 

THE MASTER CONT. _[snapping his fingers]_ : Skull! Yes! Skull! _[Waves mask above head.]_ That’s what this needs — a skull painted on it. _[Holds mask at arm’s length, turning its face toward his. Declaims with orotund flourishes.]_ ‘Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.’ Or — better yet! — half painted with white paint, the other half with black that glows in low light. Either way, there’s a suggestion of mortality in any light. Watch out! There’s a skeleton in the mirror! Eek! ‘But at my back I always hear / Time’s winged chariot hurrying near…’ Marvelous poem, that. Marvell-ous, even! _[Self-conscious smirk.]_ Damn — I’m good.

THE MASTER CONT.: Orrrrrr… _[Staring at ceiling, cocking head.]_ I could… I could? Yeah, no I could. _[Glances back at mask.]_ I could just swap this out a plague doctor mask with the inset glasses. Wouldn’t be able to talk, though, since it covers up your whole mouth. _[Tosses it casually over shoulder. Beat. Swivels back around.]_ But _damn,_ though, does it have a _look._ Oh, yeah yeah yeah, _now_ I remember. _[Bounce bounce bounce, clap clap clap!]_ They used to clear the streets for me in Pavia when I appeared with that beak and those robes. _[Lifts chin, strides imperially across floor. Runs into pile of books, flails and almost falls over, but regains balance with a swirling of limbs.]_ I could point at someone with my staff, and they might fall dead — or at least unconscious — out of fright. _[Stops, cocks head, thinks about it.]_ Of course, that could be because I added feathers to the mask and the robes for a Raven of Death look. Ohhhhhhh yes, I _did_ do eldritch quite well back then, didn’t I? Yes, I did. Of course I did.

THE MASTER CONT. _[wheeling back around to pile of supplies]_ : What else do we need? What else? What else? Guides. Ah yes, field guides. _[Squats, sorts through nearest pile of books.]_ Anatomy textbook? No. _Atlas of Wild Dreams?_ No. _How to Take Over a Planet in 30 Days or Less?_ No. Dammit. Where did those guides go? 

THE MASTER CONT.: Where did Yaz go? _[Glances all around.]_ Was she eaten by the wild closet? _[Turns toward it, cocks head, squints with one eye almost closed.]_ I thought for sure that it would be satisfied with the virgins I sent last week. _[Stands, cups hands around mouth, bellows into open closet.]_ Yaz! Hey, Yaz! Are you dead?

YAZ _[from depths of closet]:_ Master? Hey! Hah hah hah, Master! Hi!

THE MASTER _[hearkening with hand to ear]:_ Greetings! Your voice seems so near, and yet I can’t see you at all. Are you perchance the invisible and incorporeal spirit of my dear departed darling Yasmin Khan? Tell me, evanescent essence of Yaz, what fate befell you within the wardrobe of wonders? Were you murdered by mannequins? Drowned by dresses? Slain by a suit? Speak to me of thy demise so that I may take up a coat hanger and avenge thee! _[Takes up coat hanger.]_ Fuck — this is plastic.

YAZ: Uh, I’m not dead. Just a bit...turned around. Can you, uh, keep talking or throw me a map or something? I swear — I’m like six centimeters from the exit, but I just can’t find it!

THE MASTER _[projecting voice to ceiling]:_ Nychthemeron! A little help!

NYCHTHEMERON _[from ceiling speakers, as she’s currently not using robot form]:_ Why am I always cleaning up after you? Try taking care of your own shit for once.

THE MASTER: This has nothing to do with my shit and everything to do with your architectural configuration. Yaz needs to come out of the closet now.

YAZ _[laughing]:_ Wow, I walked right into that one, huh?

THE MASTER: Yes. Literally. You literally walked into that pun. _[Jumping, clapping hands.]_ Eee hee hee hee hee! Isn’t that wonderful? I think it’s wonderful.

YAZ: It’s why you sent me in here, isn’t it?

THE MASTER: Not to become lost, no! But to make closet jokes — yeah, definitely.

YAZ: Are you dropping hints again?

THE MASTER: No! Never. All I’m gonna say is that it’s perfectly okay to be attracted to more than one gender of people. 

YAZ _[verbally arching an eyebrow]:_ What genders do you think those are? Yours and the Doctor’s?

THE MASTER: Yup! Those are at least two. _[Up to NYCHTHEMERON again.]_ Nychthemeron, rearrange a few walls and let Yaz come out. I’m simply dying to see her in all her rainbow-colored glory.

NYCHTHEMERON: Uuuugggggh. The exit is right there. _[Flashing red arrows drop from the ceiling, illuminating the open closet doors.]_ There. I helped. Now fuck off.

YAZ: Great! Uh, thanks, Nychthemeron. I can see it, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that I’m kind of boxed in by, uh, boxes.

NYCHTHEMERON: Oh, _fine._ Hang on.

YAZ _[out of sight, muffled]:_ Whooooaaaaa — _[Swish swish swish sounds, like something’s moving very very fast. A spiral slide drops from the ceiling and YAZ hurtles around the curlicues.]_ Wheeeeeeeeee! _[Her exclamation becomes one of alarm as she zooms off the end of the slide and into the air.]_ Aaaaaaaah — _[She collides with THE MASTER, knocking him backward into the pile of mushroom hunting clothes.]_ Ooof. Sorry! Sorry! 

THE MASTER _[underneath YAZ, blinking quickly, deadpan]:_ And she sticks the landing, folks! Ten out of ten, definitely one of the most amazing coming-out routines I’ve ever witnessed! The crowd goes wild!

YAZ _[getting off THE MASTER, glancing back into closet, looking from side to side]:_ Wow, that was like something from Villa Diodati. I was on ground level, but then all of a sudden I dropped _down_ and slid around and around — and somehow ended up _back_ at ground level again. How did that happen? I thought I was right by the door, but — was I where I thought I was? What’s wrong? What’s going on? Where _was_ I? _[She dusts herself off. She’s wearing low-slung jeans, black, but fading to white on the fronts of the thighs. Her T-shirt says I WENT TO GALLIFREY, AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT. Over that there’s a long black trailing coat-like thing.]_

THE MASTER _[hopping up]_ : Philosophically? Existentially? Spatiotemporally? Can’t really give you an answer, I’m afraid. You see — when something’s ‘bigger on the inside,’ everything in the, uh — the, uh — the, uh — bigness has to be squished down so that it fits into the smaller outside. Dimensions have to be altered. You squish the length of things, compress the widths, fold back the depths, do a few Mobius loops with the spaces in between atoms. Things like ‘here’ and ‘there’ and ‘near’ and ‘far’ become slightly altered. ‘Contents may settle during shipping.’ You know, like that. Or it could just be that Nychthemeron likes a) twisty slides and b) knocking me on my ass.

NYCHTHEMERON: Gotta admit — b) is always good for a laugh.

YAZ: So it wasn’t like a perception filter because reality is kind of warping around something with evil vibes?

THE MASTER: Honey, if evil vibes warp reality, than I’ve bent this plane of existence so far out of shape that — uh — wait — shit. _[Beat. Glares into middle distance, shakes head.]_ I can’t think of anything snappy to end that sentence with. Well _[flapping hands],_ just imagine something, okay? Anyway, it wasn’t evil vibes. I told you. It was Nychthemeron being a twit. _[Yells at ceiling.]_ Stop being a twit, Nychthemeron!!

NYCHTHEMERON: Stop being a disaster queer, twit!

THE MASTER: Can’t! Part of the job description!

YAZ: Thanks, Nychthemeron. Not sure how I would have found my way out without your help. You’re not a twit. Don’t listen to him.

NYCHTHEMERON: I don’t.

THE MASTER _[addressing YAZ]:_ And so — after all that ridiculous rigmarole — did you ever find the robes?

YAZ: Yeah, I did. _[Holds up folded garments for a moment before tossing them into pile of gear.]_ And look what else I found in the Doctor’s side of the closet: this sparkly dress/jacket thing. _[Over her T-shirt and jeans, she wears something black that ripples and reflects sparks of light like sequins even though there are no identifiable sequins on it. It has a boned double-breasted blazer top, narrow sleeves with ridiculously large folded-back cuffs, and a skirt around the back half that extends down into a short train. Cuffs, lapels, and lining of skirt are almost black purple.]_

THE MASTER: The Doctor’s side of the closet? Hah! That’s a good one. This is not, nor will it ever be, her closet. She doesn’t even get a side. This space is sacrosanct. I don’t even let her near it. She’d steal all my feathered hats. She’s a plume fiend, that one. Well, she’s more of a hats and headgear fiend in general, actually, but she definitely has a thing for plumes. Besides, does that even look like her style? No! No, it does not. It’s mine.

YAZ: Yours? _[Glances down at what she’s wearing. Opens up either lapel, as if checking for labels. Finds none.]_

THE MASTER: Yeah, mine. I don’t think anything of the Doctor’s would fit you anyway. She’s larger and flatter.

YAZ: This is yours?

THE MASTER: Yeah, didn’t I just say that? I think I did. Yes, that’s mine. Obviously.

YAZ: Is it a dress or a coat or what?

THE MASTER: Well, I originally designed it as something to wear over a strapless gown because I hate cold shoulders. But I don’t know where that gown went, so — hmmm… Now that I’m thinking about it, I probably could alter that very easily into some sort of interesting high-low hemline. Maybe a wraparound? _[Walks around YAZ, stroking beard, eyeing jacket.]_

YAZ: You wear dresses?

THE MASTER: Yeah. You do too, right?

YAZ: In...public?

THE MASTER: Yeah. Don’t you?

YAZ: Yeah, but — _[Beat. YAZ, her mouth squinched over to the side, her brow furrowed, obviously wants to find out more about this, but doesn’t know exactly what to say.]_

THE MASTER: What do you think I’m wearing right now?

YAZ: I thought it was a...shirt?

THE MASTER: A shirt. Down to my ankles. _[Rucks up skirt with both hands. Wow, those stockings are LOUD.]_ Check it out — no trousers! It’s — a — _DRESS!!_ Gasp! Amazing, innit? _[Steps closer, peers into YAZ’S eyes.]_ Did I just drop a bombshell? Is that it? ‘Cause I think I see your little gender binaries going _KABOOM_ inside your head. Yup. They’re going _KABOOM,_ all right.

YAZ: Is it, um, kind of like with the Doctor? When we met her, she was wearing completely different clothes, like for a different person, because she said she had just been a man.

THE MASTER _[back to YAZ, neatening messy pile of gear]_ : Ummmm, no, not really. I’m not wearing a dress because I used to be a man. As you can see, I’m not wearing anything that’s ‘completely different’ than usual. I should know because I made it expressly for me.

YAZ: Ah, okay, so...is it like drag?

THE MASTER: No, it’s not like drag! Why would you think it’s like drag? It’s nothing like drag! _[Whips around, pops up, head cocking, blinking rapidly, annoyed that she’d even think that.]_ Drag is an intentionally exaggerated performance of a certain gender. It’s purposefully campy and over the top because it highlights the constructed nature of gender identity. Thus it problematizes the concept of masculinity, femininity, and the idea of gender as dependent on biology. And then, of course, there are your axes of race and class _[zooming hands through air at intersecting diagonals to illustrate]_ to consider as well, but that’s a whole other can of worms. _[Shrugs, drops hands. Beat.]_ Closet of worms. No, _wardrobe_ of worms. No no no, yeah, _wardrobe_ of worms. Yeah, wardrobe of worms — that’s nice and alliterative. Whatever, whatever. If I were in drag, I’d be a lot more — you know _[general flapping and serpentine movements of arms]_ — obvious about it. This is just my usual obnoxious, ostentatious self. Tah dah! It’s me — the apex of aesthetics! _[Assumes stance of THE DOCTOR’S Amazing Apparating_ _Man_ _Lady.]_

_[YAZ eyes him. She’s clearly working on this. Okay, he’s wearing a dress, but it’s not like a holdover, which THE DOCTOR was wearing when she and YAZ first met. It’s apparently not drag either, which was her next guess. So what is it?]_

YAZ _[frowning, speaking dubiously]_ : ...Cross-dressing…?

THE MASTER: You mean — am I cross-dressing? _[Blink blink blink, slight voluntary head shake. She’s still not getting it. Sigh. Eye roll. Bares teeth.]_ Okay. Yeah. Sometimes I am. Sometimes, when I keep buttoning my buttons wrong, or I can’t find my pants, or I run out of mascara, then yes. I am cross, dressing.

YAZ: I mean — 

THE MASTER: I know what you mean, love, and I know what _I_ mean. It’s called a pun. Cross, dressing? Occasionally, yeah. Cross-dressing? No. See — for that to happen, I would have to identify as either a man or a woman. Then I would have to believe that men could only wear certain clothes and women could only wear others. Then I would have to wear the clothes of whoever I _wasn’t._ Then I’d be cross-dressing. But only if all of those things were true. Which they aren’t. Which means that I’m not cross-dressing. I’m just wearing clothes. C’mon; c’mon. Keep up. _[Rocking side to side slightly.]_ You can do it.

YAZ: So...um...then...you’re not a woman.

THE MASTER _[shaking head]_ : No. I was previously — regeneration before last, actually — and quite invested in a certain kind of proper, yet evil, femininity. But I’m not now.

YAZ: But...you’re not a...man…? _[She speaks hesitantly, not wanting to say something wrong and offend him.]_

THE MASTER: No. _[YAZ visibly relaxes. Phew, she didn’t say something wrong!_ _THE MASTER_ _walks toward her.]_ See — those are _human_ terms. I’m not human. Sometimes I’ll play by your gender rules if I feel like it, and sometimes I won’t. Last time I felt like it. This time I don’t feel like it.

YAZ: You use ‘he’ and ‘him.’

THE MASTER: I let people make that assumption, yes, and use those words, yes. Truthfully I’d be fine with any variety of words _[shrugging]_ , as long as they’re not ‘it’ and ‘its.’

YAZ _[finally recognizing something in his explanation that she understands]_ : Oh! So...like...nonbinary? NB?

THE MASTER _[with protracted dismissive noise]_ : Thhhhbbbbffffft. I am _not_ the non-dairy creamer of genders, thank you very much.

YAZ: The — uh — what?

THE MASTER: I don’t like being defined by what I’m _not._ That’s boring and undescriptive. Besides it just implicitly reinforces the idea that whatever I’m _not_ is a valid basis for comparison. Which it isn’t.

YAZ _[giggling]:_ So...you’re like...rice milk or something, gender-wise?

THE MASTER _[rolling eyes]:_ Ugh! No. You’re still using the same milk-based metaphor, and I’m saying you need to think _beyond_ that. I suppose you could say I’m nonbinary, but that’s really dreadfully imprecise, just a catch-all category for everything that doesn’t fit a modern Western mainstream societal view of gender. If you’re really so hung up on defining things, though, and you _have_ to say something, my gender is, in a word, _[pauses, sighs happily, shoulders going up and down]_ Masterful.

YAZ _[snorting with laughter]_ : You capitalized that, didn’t you? I _heard_ you capitalize it.

THE MASTER: Of course I capitalized it. _[Throws hands up.]_ It’s my fuckin’ name! Now back to the mushroom hunting supplies...

  
  



End file.
